In the highest private box of the theater, Ansel, cradling his face and swirling his wine ss, gazed down at the woman performing a solo under the solitary spotlight.


    Her figure was gracefully slender, and her ck backless dress adorned with sparkling diamonds reflected specks of light, enhancing her exquisitely temptingce fingerless gloves that adorned her hands—hands so beautifully delicate that even the most skilled puppeteer might not replicate.


    Her slender, fair, and dexterous fingers danced lightly over the ck and white keys, as if a fairy was in motion.


    Yet, all of this paled inparison to her unique,pletely ck eyes, which seemed to be soaked in pure darkness. Those pupils, with an indescribable captivating charm, drew in all light and gaze, bottomless and mesmerizing.


    Undoubtedly, she was a breathtaking beauty who could attract the attention of men and women of all ages on the street. However, in the theater filled only with the sound of music, it seemed no one was immersed in her physical beauty, but rather, they werepletely captivated by her music, which possessed a charm tens of times more potent than her appearance.


    E Leclerc, just a few months ago, when this obscure female pianist performed on stage, most people thought she was just another trophy promoted by some influential figure.


    Yet now, she has be the hottest pianist in the entire empire, with even marquesses needing to book in advance to hear her solo. Miss Leclerc''s performances sell out in moments, her beauty and her music, along with her inexplicable charm, have made her the dream lover of countless young talents in the imperial capital.


    But this pianist, seemingly without any background, has managed to maintain her purity, aloofness, and independence amidst countless admirers. To hold her delicate hand would be considered a boastful achievement, yet to this day, no one has managed to do so — anyone who boasts of having done so either disappears or bes disabled the next day.


    As the lingering notes of the piano gracefully faded into the ether above the theater, Miss E Leclerc stood with an elegance thatmanded the room. Amidst a thunderous ovation, she smiled, bowed with a poise that belied the simplicity of the gesture, and then made her exit with a sereneposure that left an indelible mark on the audience.


    Ansel, having taken a delicate sip of his drink, turned to Helen, who was nestledfortably in his embrace, and inquired, "What are your thoughts?"


    "Even for someone like me, who possesses no profound understanding of music, I found the performance to be somewhat stirring," Helen responded softly.


    "Yet, it seems there''s more to it than mere technical prowess. It''s as if she employed some form of magic... No, to be precise, it was more akin to an... unconscious... instinct?"


    The prodigious sorceress, unustomed to such phenomena, furrowed her brow slightly. "To be an extraordinary being, yet unaware and uncontrolled, as innocent as a newborn... She must be one of those exceedingly rare individuals who have fallen into the abyss, yet there seems to be something amiss."


    As the conversation inadvertently shifted from the music to Miss E herself, "She appears unstable, yet... subtly maintains a certain equilibrium, and..."


    Helen turned to Ansel, "Unless I am mistaken, during her final bow, it seemed as though... she was looking directly at you?"


    The depth of those dark, enigmatic eyes left a profoundlysting impression.


    "Ah, because she indeed was—"


    "Mr. Ansel!"


    The door burst open, and Marlina, breathless and with disheveled hair, made her entrance.


    Marlina Marlowe, sister to Seraphina Marlowe, that monster pact head, was renowned in the imperial captial not for her familial connections but for her own merits.


    Her demeanor was gentle, her presence dignified, and her grace effortless... She epitomized perfection to such an extent that even the most traditionalist of nobles could find no fault in her, whether in appearance, etiquette, schrship, or cultivation. She did not resemble a girl from a remote, frigid vige but rather, surpassed even the most well-educated nobledies in her refinement.


    Her existence shattered a prevailing notion among the elite — true grace could not be acquired, much less in a short span of time. Yet, Marlina Marlowe achieved just that, serving as the perfect liaison between Ansel and the nobility.


    What the elite did not realize was the immense effort and dedication this unassuming vige girl had invested to attain her current stature and capabilities... Endless nights of study were merely the beginning. From the day she met Ansel, Marlina had not spared a moment for herself, not even a second.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Yet now, this girl, onceuded by the elite, appeared so panicked, so fearful, so anxious... It was as if she had regressed to her earliest days, when she was merely a timid vige girl, terrified of displeasing Ansel, her every action marked by apprehension.


    "Mr. Ansel... Mr. Ansel..."


    Marlina gasped for breath, her anxious demeanor taking Helen by surprise, for she had never seen the girl in such a state.


    "Calm yourself, Marlina," Ansel beckoned, a gentle force drawing her to his side. Helen, who had been sitting in Ansel''sp, silently and obediently made room, allowing the evidently exhausted Marlina to rest against Ansel''s legs.


    "I apologize... Mr. Ansel, I... I''ve behaved disgracefully."


    Resting on Ansel''s legs, Marlina''s breathing soon steadied. She closed her eyes for a moment topose herself, then, with a voice striving for calm, she said, "Please… please ensure that no one besides you and Miss Helen hears this."


    "Rest assured, no one else will hear. Go on," Ansel reassured her.


    Marlina nodded, struggling slightly to ry Evora''s message.


    In the stillness that followed, with the apuse yet to fade, the room was enveloped in silence, punctuated only by Marlina''s breathing.


    Helen clutched Ansel''s hand tightly, her lifeless purple pupils suddenly ignited with a fierce and burning... intent to kill.


    "It is indeed her..." the petite woman whispered in a chillingly cold voice, "She must be... eradicated..."


    Marlina looked at Ansel with a worried expression, the world of the extraordinary beings was far too distant for her, yet even from such a distance, she understood what it meant for the Empress to take action against Ansel, against Hydral.


    Gazing at the face she had longed for day and night, feeling an overwhelming sense of fatigue wash over her, that profound vulnerability, that powerlessness... made Marlina hate herself more than she ever had before.


    Hate herself for being so incapable.


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